


Juxtaposition

by Kaparu



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous-Gender Frisk, Angst, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-02 12:31:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5248364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaparu/pseuds/Kaparu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frisk could never be happy for so long, yet at the same time, they're reminded that all sadness must end too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sadness

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, this story will be about Frisk's life from their childhood to the end of the game. Odd numbered chapters will be themed by sad memories/ bad things that have happened to them in life, and even numbered chapters will be happy moments in their life (Thus why this story is named 'Juxtaposition').  
> Expect tags to be added accordingly.  
> Enjoy!

There had been a heavy tension in the small household for a while. Each member of the family holed themselves up in their respective rooms, refusing to come out unless absolutely necessary. With each passing day the tension only seemed to get thicker, and the family, the two parents and their small, young child, whose name was Frisk, knew it would soon reach a breaking point.

The child would sit in the corner of their room, lips purse in irritation of the feud they knew would happen far too soon. They had hope that everything would end up alright in the end, though. It wasn’t the first time an event such as this had occurred, and in the end their seemed to be a mutual agreeance on the parent’s part to put their differences and quarrels behind them to be a loving family.

Yes, they had picked up that the fights had been happening more and more often, but they feared nothing. Everything thing would be alright in the end… they hoped.

They couldn’t wait for their parents to go back to playing games with them, with not a care in the world.

 

* * *

 

As Frisk had predicted, a few days later, yelling and screaming signaled that the angry avoidance of each other was now over, and true feelings and harsh, sealed and locked up words until now, were being thrown at each other, with brutal honesty.

Frisk wondered if in a few minutes, a knock would sound through the house, and a police officer would tell them that, once more, they needed to tone their voices down by a notch or two. Even more, if they shut up completely, that would also be more than acceptable to the police officer and the neighbors.

Frisk took note that this fight went on for way longer than all of the other fights that had occurred up to that point, and a bit of fear bubbled up in them knowing that this was different. They attempted to reassure themselves that everything was okay, but they were scared at the idea of something being different; unpredictable.

Occasionally, there would be a break in the yelling, and the voices would grow hushed, and then in a matter of minutes, it would get loud again.

Frisk awaited the time they would come upstairs and embrace their child with the promise that everything would be alright.

Eventually, they heard footsteps, pounding and angry, climbing the steps, and moments later their door was thrown open to reveal their father standing there in all his red-faced, after a fierce screaming match, glory.

Frisk didn’t see their mother, but they could certainly hear her from the angry stomping happening downstairs

Was it possible to feel bad for a floor?

Something was definitely wrong, Frisk knew because the results of a fight had never ended this way before. Usually both would come up to Frisk’s room, not just one.

Their father approached them, his face started to lose the bright red puffiness to it, and instead it took on a look Frisk had never seen before on their father.

His eyes were watery, and his mouth seemed to be bound forever in a deep regretful frown. He had his head hung, letting his chocolate brown hair fall over his eyes, as if he had been badly defeated and desired nothing more but to vanish off the face of the earth. It didn’t take long for Frisk to piece this all together and connect it to an emotion. Sad, absolutely and positively, sad was the one word that Frisk could sum up the look that graced their father’s face.

Frisk tilted their head in confusion, which soon turned to shock as they were swept off the floor and pulled into a bear-like hug. Their shirt became wet as a floodgate broke in their father.

“Frisk, I have to… leave for the time being. You’ll be a good child, no matter what happens, right?”

A nod of confirmation was all the response the man got out of Frisk, who was still confused at the situation.

“Please, don’t do anything irrational, I know you’re a smart kid, and you’ll understand someday, why everything happened the way it did. When that time comes, please don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

They smiled at the small compliment of being smart their father had thrown at them.

“…I love you a lot Frisk, please never forget that.”

Before Frisk could respond, he let them go, and Frisk could see, how they shook with tears. Their father forced a smile onto their face and walked out of Frisk’s room briskly, stiffly shutting the door behind him.

They stared at the wooden door in front of them, their mind running the scene, this whole day back, trying to comprehend, to piece together, what had just happened.

Footstep rushed back down the stairs, and Frisk momentarily heard more screaming before the slamming of the front door was heard, and they heard the muffled rumble of one of the car’s, their dad’s, starting up.

They raced to their window, to see their father back out of the drive way, he caught their eyes briefly and father gave them a regretful smile, before finally pulling out and without a moment’s hesitation, speed down the road, until they were far out of sight.

Frisk heard sobbing coming from downstairs, but couldn’t care that much. Shattering glass, no doubt their mother had just thrown the flower vase at the wall in anger, could be heard.

They didn’t feel like being near their mother right now, so they stayed up in their room, which seemed to be okay, because their mother didn’t seem like they wanted to talk to them much either. They would stay up here, and their mother would stay down there.

They too now felt sad. A dread hung over them, which seemed impossible to shake. Nothing was going to be alright, so why had they felt the temptation to lie to themselves like that? They might not have understood everything, but they understood their mother and father had been pushed too far. They certainly understood, now, that their father had just left, probably for good.

“I love you too dad…” They silently replied to nothing.

Nothing would be okay again.     


	2. Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk loved to read, and to them, there was no greater genre than fantasy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I'm really sorry about the delay on this chapter. I had an essay due right before Thanksgiving I had to do and than Thanksgiving and Black Friday also made this even more delayed than it already was. This really shouldn't happen again, I just ended up posting the story on a really bad week XD  
> Enjoy!

The library that was down the street from Frisk’s house was, for a lack of better words, very old. The exterior of the building was crumbling, and vines had grown up the walls and nobody had been bothered to cut them off. The books in the library, while not as old as the library itself, were pretty old and it was clear no care had been shown by other people when reading them for the pages of the books often fell out, sometimes random pages would have crayon or pencil scribbles on them, and occasionally there would be a weird substance (???) on the pages that Frisk, understandably, avoided touching.

Yes, public library books were simply the best.

Out of all the genres of books in the library, Frisk only seemed to fall in love with one; fantasy. There was something so wonderful about the genre that had them addicted to it. Perhaps it was the dragons, strong and powerful, or perhaps it was the idea that magic existed or that anything thing was possible.

Needless to say, Frisk practically lived in the corner of the library, far away from all of the other people in the small place. It’s not like they wanted to go home anytime soon with their mom still acting up the way they were.

* * *

 

Frisk’s hands scrambled to catch pages that were loose enough to slip out of the old brown leather book, shoving them back in as gently as they could. The book had seen better days that was for sure.

The title of the book was stamped onto the cover in big, bold, words. **Legends Never Die**. Frisk’s eyebrows raised in amusement as they studied the book in their hands. The title seemed more fitting for somebody who had accomplished something great rather than a book about legends.

Ultimately, they decided to open the book and read it. They had some time before the library closed.

For the most part it was standard fantasy things that Frisk had seen a million times, but it didn’t seem to bother them in the slightest as they smiled brighter with each word they read, becoming wrapped up in the plot and characters.

They read through the legends, chapter after chapter. They soon came across one that had them surprised. **Mount Ebott and the War of Monsters vs Humans.** Mount Ebott was pretty close to Frisk’s town, and it already had a pretty strong reputation of being cursed by the locals.

Frisk was interested in this legend more than all the others that was for sure.

“ _Long ago, two races ruled over Earth: HUMANS and MONSTERS.”_

On the page, there was a drawing that was faded, but Frisk could make out the form of a small human, wearing a poncho, and a small goat-like monster standing next to the human (both children it seemed). They both lacked any distinguishable facial features, and the only other thing that could be made out was the spear the human was clutching tightly in their hand.

 “ _One day, war broke out between the two races.”_

In this picture, it seemed both the human and the monster in the previous picture had grown up. The monster now towered over the human, a pitchfork looking weapon was now being held by it. The human, who Frisk had assumed was the same one, had a sword as opposed to a spear and their poncho was clearly ragged after such long wear. They were standing opposite to each other and had their respective races behind them, clearly signifying the war that had taken place.

“ _After a long battle, the humans were victorious._ ”

“ _They sealed the monsters underground with a magic spell.”  
_

These seemed to share the same illustration. It was drawn from behind the monsters as the foreground was crowded with them. Further away, the humans seemed to be standing on a small hill as they were elevated above the monsters. The human same human from before with the sword now stood next to other human who held a spear weapon that appeared to be glowing.

Frisk excitedly flipped the page to see more of the story, but nothing more was written, or at least from the original legend. Instead the back of the page that would have had more story on it, it was ruined by black ink that seemed to be fading away just as the legend’s printing had.

“ ** _Legends say that those who climb the mountain never return… and I certainly have nothing to live for hehe… I’m about to see how true legends are…” -201X  
_**

Frisk felt uncomfortable after reading the statement, despite whatever this person decided to do happening years ago. Frisk closed the book slowly as if it had somehow been cursed by the words that sat there. No matter how many times they tried to convince themselves that words were just words, they knew that words could be one of the most powerful things in the world.

Just as they were reaching for another book, a shadow was cast over them, making them look up. In front of them stood a women, books clutched tightly to their chest in a clear attempt to carry more in one trip.

“Hey, it’s time to go, the library is closed now. If you want, I can check some of those books out for you before you leave.” The woman almost looked hopeful at the prospect of not having to put back all the books Frisk had taken off the shelves.

Frisk shook their head, but indicated that they would help put the books back (they now realized just how many books they had taken over to their table).

“Shouldn’t you get home by a certain time? It’s getting dark out and I’m sure your parents don’t want you getting home any later than it already is.”

Once more Frisk shook their head. Their wimpy answers somehow seemed to satisfy the woman, who was more than happy not to have to do more work. The librarian nodded their head and began to walk away to put away books, while Frisk began to do the same. Anything seemed better than being at home, and they would be more than glad to spend more time at the library.

Throughout it all though, their mind couldn’t stop churning the words they had read over and over again.

The scribbles and writings in library books were always weird (if not aggravating), but Frisk thought that one took the cake.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I was writing this, I realized I had quite the dilemma. I'm split between wanting to have passive/ narrator Chara in this as Frisk's guide, or having them as some sort of character in the background that's referenced every once and a while. I think I'm leaning more towards narrator Chara but I have a few more chapters to decide... so just a warning that Narrator Chara might be a thing that happens lol

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story to ao3, so if anybody sees a problem with the way it's formatted, if I messed it up somehow, please tell me so I can fix it!  
> That being said, please feel free to give criticism that can help me improve in any way!  
> The first few chapters won't have the monsters (as it'll be building up to when Frisk does fall down), sorry about that!


End file.
